Ugly
by Undercooked
Summary: Azula is an ugly, ugly girl. Rated M for self-mutilation.
1. Ugly

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender does not belong to me.

**UGLY**

**by Undercooked**

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy; when skies are gray. You'll never know dear; how much I love you. You have been my sunshine today_."

She was beautiful in the achy mornings and she was beautiful when the sunshine ended and she looked beautiful with her face contorted in lovely agony.

No-one needed to tell her that she was beautiful.

She knew that.

She knew that she was beautiful, didn't she?

And no-one, no mother or friend or lover, needed to tell her that.

She didn't. Need. Anyone.

To tell her things?

No, to encourage her.

She was INDEPENDENT.

She was HERSELF.

She was BEAUTIFUL and she was DESIRABLE and she was CHARISMATIC and CHARMING and...and...

And she was SADISTIC and she was CRUEL and she was INSENSITIVE and everyone knew that and so did she and...

"_Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow_?"

Her garden is twisted and overgrown and confusing, a maze of everything that she grows and cultivates then cuts down when it gets too close to the sun.

She is contrary.

She was a contrary child.

Her head rebels.

Not a contrary, sadistic child, a sweet pretty little thing.

Oh yes.

Sweet pretty little thing.

Not even her mother thought she was a sweet pretty little thing.

She thought her mother was a wonderful judge of character.

She could see the ugly girl.

Yes, Azula was an ugly girl.

She was an ugly, ugly girl and she always been this ugly.

And she knew that, but the sickly sweet part of her said no.

You are beautiful, beautiful.

You are sweet pretty and everybody wants you, you, beautiful, pretty thing.

Thick sleeves laced up over the cuts and burns.

Ugly arms.

She had to make them ugly.

Because somewhere under that beautiful skin, Azula was an ugly girl.

"_Hush-a-bye baby, on the treetop. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock_."


	2. Twisted

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Summary: Ty Lee is a twisted, twisted girl.

A/N -- I've decided to make this a multi-chapter fic, covering Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai. Look out for Mai's, because who knows what stupid thing I'll dream up for her.

**TWISTED**

**by Undercooked**

"_There once was a girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very, very good; and when she was bad, she was horrid_."

She was being horrid today.

All the sweet little smiles and twisty moves cannot hide it.

She delves in and out of wells of self-pity and mopes and then laughs and then mopes again.

She wonder if maybe she is schizophrenic.

Because these voices urge her BAD.

When she wants GOOD.

And then little voices squeal GOOD.

When she wants to be rotten BAD.

And what is the answer?

The answer is simple.

Because the answer is not in existence.

And yes, she likes to lie a little.

Likes to lie and say that she is GOOD all the time.

Likes to lie with her pretty little chaste face.

None of them would ever guess that she is not as chaste and as innocent and as harmless as they would like to think.

A child playing at circus games.

Sometimes her self-pity is too much and it turns into a vicious need to hurt.

She's a little lie when she twisted her fingernails into her arm.

She's a fib, what a fib.

"_Five little monkeys, jumping on a bed. One fell off and bumped her head_."

Ty Lee thinks that it is quite possible that she was dropped on her head as a small child.

Oh, entirely possible.

It might have hurt.

It might have dislodged something up there.

Because she can't explain this twisting of the norm, this perversion of the real.

Maybe she's sick and her life is a fever dream, but she doesn't think she'd let this happen on its own, not the way things are.

Oh, entirely a fever dream. A fever dream, a pastel warp of reality.

Her mother WAS careless.

A drop on the head was doable.

A drop on the head could have brought about this twisting.

Because she was so very tossed and elastically deformed.

She was twisted like her hair, like her smile, like her limbs.

She powders little fingernail shaped bruises and ties a bow around hate filled incisions.

She doesn't have to, but twisting feels so much better on the outside.

Because somewhere under that perky smile, Ty Lee was a twisted girl.

"_Beautiful dreamer, sleep unto me; starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee_."


	3. Frightened

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Summary: Mai is a frightened, frightened girl.

A/N: Well, it's over. Only a few people enjoyed it. One managed to fiercely piss me off with their comments. Hip-hooray. Visit my profile for more info on my next/previous stories.

**FRIGHTENED**

**by ****Undercooked**

"_Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home; your house is on fire, your children shall burn_."

Nothing in her suggested fright.

Of burning, of being hated, of hating.

Nothing in her suggested fright.

But she was frightened.

The queues of motherly morning sunlight scared her into hiding and further so the beads of high noon.

She withdrew from the sun like a vampire.

Shaking, shaking, but still, still.

--an odd sequence of words to bequeath--

The stings of the sun on the little skin she left bare nearly bled.

Of course not.

Only bled to her.

--open the wounds only for me, for me, and let me see you bleed--

The fright of exposure, she realized.

Get help, help yourself.

But her house was on fire and her children would burn, and so what of the help?

Dead children.

No house.

She didn't even have either.

"_Sugar, spice, and everything nice; that's what little girls are made of_."

Mai wasn't made of any of those things.

She was a being of primarily fear.

Her fear came across as BOREDOM.

There's nothing to do.

--HELP ME--

This is so boring.

--I am frightened past any of my limits--

The sad part was that she

didn't even

know what she was afraid of.

No-one gave her any reason to fear.

--oh, yes they did--

But the faces that loomed at her from either side of a hall when she walked down it were malicious.

--silly girl--

Fright turned to blood on white sheets and blood turned to more fright.

And it was a circle.

She was frightened of what lay before her, behind her, within her.

She was frightened of what lay beside her at night.

Fright of everything, fright of life.

And somewhere under that bored exterior, Mai was a frightened girl.

"_Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posy, ashes, ashes, we all fall down_."


End file.
